


Dimpled Demise

by Soapbubblesoul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brother's hot best friend, Hand Jobs, Idiot!Yifan, Kinda, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom, Riding, Seductive!Yixing, Yixing lowkey has a hand/finger kink, and by tiny bit I mean he's a lost cause, bc also, perhaps a tiny bit of plot, the prompt was one night stand but Yifan might be a tiny bit in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/pseuds/Soapbubblesoul
Summary: Truly, Yifan just wishes to read his book in peace until Lu Han's party quiets down enough for him to sleep. But then Yixing suddenly appears in his room at 3am, with some very different plans for Yifan.





	Dimpled Demise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theflyjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyjar/gifts), [Hornet394](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornet394/gifts).



> alternatively titled: kira's bad attempts at gay porn after not writing smut in forever
> 
> Lo prompted one-night stand, and Charlotte prompted brother's hot best friend, so this fic happened. I thought I would be lucky if I got it to be 2.5k but then I, idk, blinked or smth and it just. Mutated.   
> Proceed at your own risk, this has neither been betaed nor edited, it's a hot mess.

Yifan can hear the noises of the party even from his room on the second floor. Then again, it’s only a single floor above the living room, and it is a loud party. Lu Han has always known how to throw a proper celebration, and his own 25th birthday is the perfect occasion for a particularly big and exuberant affair.

Usually, Yifan would not be around for Lu Han’s birthday parties. It is not that he does not like his big brother, nor that Lu Han doesn’t want him there. It’s simply that they stopped having a shared circle of friends when they were 12 and started going to different schools, so now Yifan knows barely any of Lu Han’s friends. They are all good people, but Yifan is not very good at spending time with strangers. But 25 is a big deal for Lu Han, and it’s a great excuse for Yifan to come home for the first time since moving across the country for college. So he came, and he mingled, but it’s getting close to 3am now and Yifan’s social battery simply has been exhausted.

He does not expect to find sleep, not with the crowd that’s celebrating downstairs, but Yifan expects to find solitude in the sanctuary of his own bedroom. The sounds from the party show no sign of subsiding, but Yifan is rather happy just sitting in his bed, reading. Perhaps he’ll tire enough at one point to fall asleep despite the noise, but for now he’s not too pressed. He can sleep however long he wants to, the next day, and there’s a certain pleasure to be found in finally being able to get through a few chapters of the book he started before his exam period hit him hard.

Yifan is so engrossed in the printed world, that he doesn’t even notice the sound of his bedroom door opening, but he does look up when he hears it closing. He expects to find no one there. Perhaps a party-goer opened the door looking for the bathroom—or an empty bedroom—and realised that the room was already occupied. Instead, he is met with the sight of the last person he thought would ever be standing in his bedroom.

“Yixing?”

Yixing doesn’t look lost. In fact, he is smiling at Yifan as if he’s not at all surprised to be seeing him. If anything, he looks pleased. Without even asking if it’s okay, Yixing crosses the room and sits down on Yifan’s mattress, close enough that he can pluck the book from Yifan’s hands and deposit it on the night table right next to him.

“Reading a book while everyone else is getting drunk downstairs?” Yixing only casts a flickering glance at the title, his attention immediately returning to Yifan. “Everyone in highschool always used to think you’re a jock, when you’re actually such a nerd.”

The smile on his lips is boyish, charming, but with a teasing edge to it. His words aren’t malicious, and Yifan thinks he might actually see something like affection in Yixing’s eyes. Surely that must be the lighting playing tricks on him though.

“What are you doing here?” Yifan asks, and swallows to in a useless attempt to alleviate the dryness of his throat when his voice comes out squeaky.

It’s not that Yifan is completely socially inept. He doesn’t love crowds, he is not entirely comfortable around people he doesn’t know well, but he is capable of holding a conversation just fine. Usually. It’s simply that Yixing might just as well be every single one of Yifan’s wet-dreams in the flesh. Gorgeous does not even begin to describe him, in Yifan’s mind. Yixing is perfect, from head to toe, and ever since Lu Han first brought his best friend over for a movie night, Yifan has had to learn the perils of his brother having a hot best friend. In fact, he is sure Yixing is the very personification of a lot of people’s wet dreams, and the most agonising part is—Yixing knows. It shows in the way he holds himself, the way he moves, the way he’s currently looking at Yifan as if he knows exactly what sort of thoughts Yifan is having about him. And he’s basking in them.

“Well… the party was getting a bit boring.”

There is no mistaking Yixing’s intentions, not when he’s sitting this close to Yifan and his eyes are practically smouldering. Yet, the proximity makes it near impossible for Yifan to think straight. He had stripped down to nothing but his boxers already for bed, and he feels weirdly exposed as Yixing’s eyes rake up and down his chest, and immediately after, Yixing’s fingers come up to follow the trace of his eyes. The touch is feather-light, but Yixing’s gaze is firm and vigilant as he checks for any signs of rejection. Yifan’s traitorous body shivers underneath Yixing’s fingers, and a small gasp escapes him when Yixing brushes against one of his nipples ever so slightly.

Taking his reaction as an encouragement, Yixing moves before Yifan even has the time to realise what’s happening. To his utter mortification, Yixing comes to a rest sitting astride Yifan’s lap, much too close to Yifan’s ever growing arousal. He hates how it only takes Yixing minutes to get him this worked up. Although in Yifan’s defence, part of the reason why he chose to retreat back to his room was that he simply couldn’t take the sight of Yixing dancing anymore.

Their living room had been transformed into a make-shift dancefloor, and no matter how much Yifan tried not to stare, his eyes stayed glued to the sway of Yixing’s hips. It was mesmerizing, to watch him move to the beat of the music, and it led Yifan’s thoughts down a dark path. One full of imagining just what else those hips could do, how good they would feel grinding down on—

Yifan catches himself before he can summon up the mental images again. He already is fighting hard to maintain his self-control, and so far it is a losing battle, but he refuses to give in just yet.

“Are you drunk?” he asks, simultaneously hoping for Yixing to say _yes_ so he has a reason to put an end to this while also desperately wishing for him to say _no_ because his resistance is crumbling fast.

Yifan has his hands braced against Yixing’s shoulders as if to keep him at arm’s length but it’s a laughable farce, really, for he puts absolutely no force behind his hold and Yixing knows. Without a single sign of hesitation, he pushes right past Yifan’s weak defence to meld their lips. Yixing does not even wait for Yifan to process that they are kissing before his tongue is already prying Yifan’s mouth open, demanding entrance rather than asking for it. Yixing tastes of cinnamon, apples and almonds from Lu Han’s birthday cake, and that sickeningly sweetish melon soda Lu Han brought home with him from his trip to Japan a few weeks ago.

“Do I taste drunk?” Yixing asks in a low voice when he finally allows Yifan to breathe.

Yifan only manages to gape at him, wordlessly opening and closing his mouth as he tries to find the right words—or just any words at all, really. The longer Yifan remains speechless, the smugger Yixing’s expression gets.

“I haven’t had a single drink,” Yixing answers for him, because no, Yifan can’t taste any alcohol on Yixing’s tongue. “And no, I haven’t smoked anything either. I am perfectly sober. I am not drunk, not high, I am simply…“

Yixing leans forward until he can nibble at Yifan’s earlobe. As if that wasn’t enough already to make Yifan’s brain short-circuit, Yixing chooses that precise moment to grind his hips against Yifan’s, his arousal very obvious as it brushes against Yifan’s own.

“…horny.”

A smirk, another downward grind, this one slower as if Yixing is purposely trying to make Yifan lose his mind. For all that its worth, that is precisely what he’s doing, and he’s being very successful at it because Yifan doesn’t think he can keep himself still for much longer.

“And I can see you are too,” Yixing declares, his eyes lidded and his lips connecting with the skin of Yifan’s throat.

_No marks_ , Yifan thinks, because he doesn’t want to have to explain them in the morning, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. His entire body, in fact, moves on auto-pilot, refusing to listen to reason. Yixing is sitting on his lap, heavy and hot, and instead of pushing him away, Yifan’s hands draw him closer. Then, Yixing slowly moves down, kissing his way along Yifan’s collarbones, across his chest, his stomach, and dropping lower still.

“Don’t—”

Yifan’s actions belie his words as he does not stop Yixing when his fingers hook into the waistband of Yifan’s boxers. Rather, he squeezes his shoulders in anticipation, or encouragement—he himself can’t really tell.

Yixing’s eyes are darkened with lust as he holds Yifan’s gaze while pulling down Yifan’s underwear. The moment his cock springs free, Yixing _licks his lips_ as his eyes dart down to look at it. The sheer obscenity of the action makes Yifan’s breath catch in his throat. Yixing, cute, sweet, _innocent_ Yixing is hovering mere centimetres away for his cock, regarding it as if he’s a starving man having been presented with a feast.

“Oh yes,” Yixing whispers to himself, and Yifan thinks he misheard him but then Yixing looks up to meet his eyes, that damned grin back on his lips that steals the oxygen right from Yifan’s lungs. “I knew you’d be big.”

Yifan wants to say something, _anything_. He should make a confident comment about how he knows that, or how Yixing should just wait for Yifan’s cock to be buried inside him but is unable to decide whether to use “well endowed” or “hung”. Both of them sound incredibly cringeworthy in Yifan’s mind, and he’s still looking for the perfect comeback when all his thoughts come to a sudden standstill.

A curse catches in his throat as Yixing’s finger traces a line from the base of his cock up to the tip, immediately after followed by a tongue. Just like with anything else that night, Yixing shows not a single sign of hesitation. He does not rush, but he teases Yifan with an almost calculated calmness, as if he has a perfectly laid out plan in his mind on how to unravel Yifan. And, Yifan loathes to admit, it’s working.

After lathering his entire length with saliva, Yixing pumps him while his mouth is busy sucking bruises onto Yifan’s hipbones. Just the touch of Yixing’s fingers, so delicate but also surprisingly calloused, is enough to have Yifan gasp for breath as pleasure shoots through his body. Yixing is visibly pleased with the effect he’s having on Yifan, but he hasn’t even properly started yet. Far from it.

The moment Yixing’s lips envelop the head of his cock, Yifan is sure he’s on the verge of cumming right there and then. A wrangled moan of Yixing’s name falls from his lips as his fingers bury in Yixing’s hair on instinct. He worries for a second that he’s gripping too tight, but rather than complain, Yixing hums in appreciation. The vibration sends a sharp spark of pleasure up Yifan’s spine.

Yifan has been on the receiving end of his fair share of blow jobs, but Yixing still manages to make him lose whatever composure he has left within seconds. One of his hands comes up to bury in his own hair, as if he can control himself better like this. He tries really hard to stop himself, uselessly. His hips buck up on their own accord, making Yixing choke. Yifan immediately rushes to apologise, but instead of the words, a chocked moan leaves his mouth because of the way Yixing’s throat constricts around his length.

“ _Fu_ \- Sorry,” he gasps out on his second attempt.

“It’s fine,” Yixing simply laughs.

He looks like sin personified as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips slightly swollen shining with a mixture of his own saliva and Yifan’s precum. Yifan has the sudden urge to kiss him, and it takes him off-guard because usually he does not have any desire to taste himself on someone else’s lips. But Yixing’s mouth just looks extra inviting, mesmerising when it spreads into that seductive smile of his.

“Go ahead. You can fuck my mouth if you want to,” Yixing says as casually as if he’s making a comment about the weather.

As if to make a point, he places a kiss to the crown of Yifan’s cock. His tongue darts out, licking up the precum oozing from the slit at the top and this time it’s Yifan who nearly chokes, though it’s on his own saliva and not someone else’s cock. No matter how tempting Yixing’s request sounds, Yifan is already on the edge, and he doesn’t think he will last long if Yixing were to continue his ministrations.

So, instead of letting the other sink down on his cock again, Yifan balls his fingers in Yixing’s shirt, because it is the closest thing he can grasp, and tugs it upwards. He means for it to be an indication for Yixing to move back up, but Yixing understands it as a command to take off his shirt. Which, Yifan reasons, isn’t exactly the worst thing when Yixing suddenly sits on his legs, bare-chested. In fact, he finds it to be a very, very good thing.

Even with his shirt on, it’s easy to tell just how well-trained Yixing is, but without it he is so hot that Yifan finds his mouth go dry for a moment. He reaches for Yixing’s chest almost unconsciously, and Yixing shuffles forward until he’s close enough for Yifan to touch.

“You are gorgeous,” Yifan whispers without meaning to, but Yixing hears him and preens under Yifan’s attention.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” Yixing replies, and shifts until he can kiss Yifan again.

He grinds his still clothed hips against Yifan’s, and as tantalising as Yixing’s jeans look, clinging to his legs and bottom as tightly as they do, the friction is too rough for Yifan’s already sensitive cock. Wish a shiver, he recoils slightly, and stops Yixing’s movement with hands gripping Yixing’s waist tightly.

“Pants off.”

“Gladly,” Yixing responds with a grin, and immediately swings off the bed to discard of his pants, his boxers going with them right away.

Truthfully, Yifan doesn’t know how Yixing managed to keep them on for so long. They are unbelievably tight, and it must have been incredibly uncomfortable for Yixing to have his cock restrained by them. The moment he has kicked his clothes away, Yixing is back on top of Yifan’s, not even giving Yifan enough time to fully appreciate the sight. Then again, he can still map out Yixing’s body with his hands while the other is kissing the living daylights out of him.

Yifan knows he shouldn’t be lusting for his brother’s best friend, it just has too much potential for things to get messy. Then again, Yixing found _him_ , and he _very_ clearly wants this too. So what harm can a single one-night stand really do? They’re all adults here. There’s no reason why this would make things complicated between either him and Yixing or Yixing and Lu Han. Perhaps he just needs to fuck it out of his system.

And Yixing, evidently, is very much on board with the _fucking it out_ part.

“Let me ride you,” Yixing whispers against Yifan’s neck, his breath hot as it hits Yifan’s skin.

And who is Yifan to say no to that.

Yixing sits back a little, allowing Yifan enough room to press kisses along Yixing’s collarbone as he reaches for the lube. He’s about to coat his fingers to stretch Yixing when the other stops him.

“No need.”

“What?”

Yifan looks at him with his eyebrows bunched together in confusion. Yixing has seen Yifan’s girth, has almost chocked on it, in fact. He cannot possibly think to take him without any preparation. Unless…

Despite everything that has transpired between them so far, all the rutting and kissing and Yixing giving him a blowjob that nearly made Yifan bite through his own lip to keep quiet, Yifan blushes scarlet as he realises what the only explanation is.

“Did you…?”

“I know where your bathroom is and I know where Lu Han keeps his lube. Why do you think it took me this long to come after you,” Yixing is smirking as he takes Yifan’s hand and guides it back to his ass, as if to prove to Yifan that he worked himself open properly. “I didn’t want to risk cuming from just your fingers, and I knew I’d be weak to having them in me.”

A low groan reverberates in Yifan’s throat at Yixing’s words, spoken with such an innocent look on his face. The very image of Yixing stretching himself, to prepare for Yifan’s cock, no less, has Yifan sweating just that tiny bit more. He wonders if Yixing was thinking about him whilst fingering himself, and he wishes he could have seen it. But at the same time he doesn’t know if he’d actually had had enough patience and self-restraint to watch, rather than join.

Despite Yixing’s warning that just Yifan’s fingers alone might have been able to make him cum already—or perhaps exactly because of that—Yifan slips two of his fingers in.

Yixing, who had been grabbing Yifan’s shoulders to balance himself, gasps sharply and tightens his hold enough that Yifan is sure he’ll find finger-shaped bruises on his skin later. Raising an eyebrow, Yifan regards Yixing. Surely, two fingers shouldn’t be that much yet, if Yixing intends to take his cock. So, he adds a third one, and even though Yixing isn’t terribly tight around him, clearly having been thorough with stretching himself, Yixing reacts very strongly to it.

There is the temptation, so strong it is nearly irresistible, to fuck Yixing with his fingers and watch his face distort further with pleasure. But Yifan’s cock is so painfully hard, that he feels as if he himself would suffer most from not getting to fuck Yixing properly. So, he reluctantly pulls his fingers out.

Yixing does not waste a single second in popping the lube open, slathering a generous amount on Yifan’s cock after having rolled on the condom. There is a new edge to his movements, an urgency that wasn’t there before Yifan’s fingers went up his ass. All slow teasing Yixing ever attempted goes right out the window as he positions himself above Yifan’s waist, guides Yifan’s cock towards his entrance and starts sinking down. Yixing is exceptionally good at taking what he wants, and in that moment, Yifan’s cock is what he wants, inside him, stretching him until he feels like he’s being split apart. Yifan worries that Yixing is moving too quickly, but he is too busy being overwhelmed by Yixing’s walls wrapping perfectly around his cock to be able to slow the other.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yixing curses as he bottoms out, “You didn’t feel this big in my mouth.”

He’s laughing, but there’s a shake to it, and Yifan can see how his sweat-matted forehead scrunches up slightly from the pain. Yixing is concentrated on breathing through it until he gets used to the stretch, and Yifan feels bad for it. The only thing he can do is stroke up and down Yixing’s sides, hoping to ease him a bit. It’s hell, if he’s being honest, being enveloped in Yixing’s tight heat but having to stay still. Yifan doesn’t dare move, however, because he does not want to hurt Yixing.

Eventually, Yixing experimentally swirls his hips. The movement is miniscule, but it’s enough to have Yifan’s grip tighten involuntarily as pleasure shoots through his system. This time it’s him who has to take controlled breaths, because he can’t get too excited too quickly. It’s been a while since he last had sex, and with someone as mesmerizing as Yixing, at that. He really does not wish for this to end before it’s even really begun.

And Yixing certainly doesn’t make it easy for him when he does begin to move in earnest. All the times Yifan observed him dance, he imagined just what Yixing’s hips could do in bed and everything he conjured up falls short of the reality.

“ _Shit_ ,” Yifan hisses, grabbing onto the sheets tightly.

Yixing, apparently, is not too happy about that. He takes Yifan’s hands and places them on his waist instead, keeping his own hands above them. Yifan cannot decide if it’s because he wants to show Yifan how to guide the roll of his hips, or whether he simply wants him to feel the fluid motion with which he moves. Either way, he does not let go, and when Yifan grips harder, he moans loudly.

Yifan has half a mind to shush him, because the house is full of other people, but for one the music is still so loud that it can be heard even in Yifan’s room, and, more importantly, Yifan enjoys the noises he can draw from Yixing.

When Yixing seems perfectly comfortable having his cock inside him, Yifan decides that he’s been holding back long enough. The next time Yixing grinds down, Yifan thrusts up to meet him half-way. Yixing gasps, his hips stuttering for a moment before resuming their movement with increased urgency. He is incredibly graceful, even as his pace picks up. Where before he was still teasing Yifan, he now is earnestly seeking his own pleasure.

His thighs flex as he bounces up and down Yifan’s cock, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth hanging open. The small sounds he makes whenever his hips meet Yifan’s are intoxicating, but they’re not enough. Yifan can feel his own orgasm building up, but he has to make Yixing come first.

Planting his feet to the mattress, Yifan uses the leverage to put more force behind his thrusts. He must have managed to hit a new angle like this, because the next thing he knows Yixing is keening. Startled, Yixing loses his balance. As he falls forward, Yixing manages to catch himself with his hands braced against Yifan’s chest. His legs are shaking, as are his arms, but he keeps himself half upright. In this position, he doesn’t have his full range of movement, but it’s still enough to gyrate his hips in a way that drives Yifan mad.

Realising that he is not going to be able to hold out much longer, Yifan desperately grabs Yixing’s cock and starts jerking him off. Yixing, chants his name, seemingly unable to decide whether to move back on his cock or forward to thrust into his hold. Yifan’s fingers are long enough to wrap fully around Yixing’s hot length, but he can’t win against the tightness of Yixing’s ass.

With a bitten off curse, Yifan cums still buried inside Yixing. His hips stutter, as do his hands, his entire body falling off the rhythm he’d been fighting to maintain. Yet, he keeps moving, even when he has been milked dry, because Yixing is close. He might not have managed to get Yixing off before him, but he’ll not let him be too far behind.

When Yixing cums, he throws his head back and moans Yifan’s name, his cum spurting over Yifan’s chest. It’s almost too much for Yifan, the way Yixing’s hold clenches around his over-sensitive cock, but Yifan bites his lip and just keeps fisting Yixing’s cock until Yixing has ridden out his high.

With Yixing still sat atop Yifan, braced against his chest, they both try to catch their breath. Yixing’s hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, and Yifan uses the hand that hasn’t just jerked Yixing off to wipe it away. The gesture is almost too gentle, and for a second Yifan dreads that he might have crossed a line, but Yixing just laughs breathlessly, and then smiles at him. The post-orgasmic high makes his eyes sparkle in a way that Yifan wishes to commit to memory because it must be one of the most beautiful things Yifan has ever seen.

“Well, now that was fun,” Yixing exclaims, and even though he’s still slightly shaky, Yixing climbs off Yifan. “Exactly what I needed.”

It breaks Yifan out of the moment, and he clears his throat for no reason aside from wishing to distract himself from his own thoughts. Yixing reaches over for the tissues on Yifan’s nightstand to help clean him up, but Yifan halts him.

“I’ll just go take a shower.”

There’s no way a few tissues will be able to get rid of the stickiness on his chest. He can’t possibly sleep like this. He’s just thankful for the condom, or else they would have had to clean up a whole other mess. Yixing looks him up and down, then shrugs.

“Shower sounds like a good plan,” he agrees.

Yifan almost expects Yixing to suggest joining him, and he is trying to figure out whether he thinks he can go another round already when Yixing instead reaches for his discarded boxers and jeans. He slips on both, and then picks up his shirt. Yifan barely has had time to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed before Yixing is already standing in front of him, fully dressed.

Yifan tries to find words, but his mind stays blank. Before he can come up with something to say, Yixing leans down and kisses him languidly, and Yifan almost wraps his arms around him and drags him back onto the bed. But he doesn’t, and all too soon Yixing pulls away. It’s back again, that infuriatingly charming smile that haunts Yifan in his dreams.

“I’ll just borrow Lu Han’s shower, I don’t think he’ll mind. Thanks, this was great.”

And then, Yixing is gone, leaving Yifan sitting naked on his bed. If it weren’t for the slowly drying semen on his chest that’s not his, Yifan could almost believe he was nothing but an illusion to begin with, with how quickly he slipped away.

__

Breakfast the next morning is awkward, to say the least. For Yifan, at least. Yixing seems perfectly content to be rubbing his foot up Yifan’s thigh underneath the table. When he actually touches Yifan’s crotch, Yifan only barely manages to stifle a squeak. It ends with him choking on cereal instead and Lu Han sending him a funny look. Thankfully, it reads “Are you even too stupid to eat cereal properly.” rather than “What exactly is going on between you and Yixing?” but Yifan really, _really_ doesn’t wish to push his luck.

Yixing disagrees.

Yifan doesn’t know why, but Yixing seems to get a real kick out of pushing Yifan to his limits. Whenever Yifan twitches, even if it’s just with an eyebrow of his, Yixing’s grin will spread that tiny bit further. He is evidently pleased with himself by the time they’re doing the dishes and Lu Han is asking Yifan if he’s okay because he keeps acting weirdly.

Yifan assures his brother that he’s fine, but he is not sure if he’s very believable when his voice slips an entire octave higher as Yixing choses that precise moment to press against Yifan’s back as he’s reaching for something on the counter behind Yifan. It truly is a miracle that Lu Han doesn’t seem to suspect anything, despite Yifan having resorted to wearing a turtleneck despite the warming weather. It had only taken Yixing one glance at him that morning to spread into a very amused smirk, as if he thought Yifan’s attempt at hiding the marks of their time together was both cute and futile. At least Yifan could attribute the blush on his cheeks to being warm in this outfit.

When it’s time for Yixing to leave, he takes his time to hug Yifan. Which, in itself, isn’t out of the ordinary. Yixing is Lu Han’s best friend, so naturally he and Yifan have been spending enough time in each other’s presence to be familiar enough for hugging. What’s not part of the ordinary is Yixing breathing hotly against Yifan’s neck and whispering, “We should repeat that.”

Okay, so perhaps their one-night stand might turn into a string of one-night stands. Still no problem.

Right? No problem.

However, as Yifan watches Yixing saunter out of the door, casting him a last, dimpled smile over his shoulder, Yifan’s not so sure anymore that his heart will manage to survive this.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, Yixing is Yifan's dimpled demise, as we all know


End file.
